It's Called A Hustle, Sweetheart
by PinkyMina
Summary: Keith just wants a break from studying, and to maybe shoot some pool. He did not sign up for this. (Klance, Collage AU) [Oneshot]


**This is my first FanFiction so tell me what you think! Thanks!**

Keith was sitting in his room staring at the blank document that was supposed to be an essay. He had been sitting there for over an hour but his mind was as blank as the screen.

After fifteen more minutes of typing, re-reading, deleting, and staring, Keith stood up and yelled, at no one in particular, "That's it! I can't do this right now!"

He walked out of his dorm and began aimlessly walking the hallways. He vaugely remembered his brother Shiro telling him about a game room on campus. Keith figured that playing a few games, even if all they had was Pac-Man, would help clear his head enough for him to finish, or more correctly, start his essay.

Keith pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Shiro asking the location of the game room. The reply came a few seconds later, informing him that the game room was, fortunetly, in the same building that he was currently pacing.

Finding the game room presented no problems for Keith. He was also relived to see that it held more than Pac-Man. There was Fooze-Ball, Ping-Pong, a few arcade type games, Air Hockey, and a Pool table. Keith was drawn to the Pool table. Shiro had had a pool table in his house when Keith had lived there. Given they didn't play much, but Keith still considered himself decent at Pool.

The cues were hung on the wall to the right of the table, along with the triangle. After removing the balls from the pockets and racking them, Keith broke. He had managed to sink eleven of the fifteen balls when his peace and quiet was interupted.

A guy, who looked a bit younger than Keith, burst into the game room right as Keith was about to hit the six ball in. The intrusion caused him to scratch. Keith groaned as he lifted to cue ball from it's pocket.

The guy who had so rudely interupted Keith made his way over to the table. "Well, hello," The guy said, "The name's Lance. Mind if I join you?"

"Yes." Keith mumbled too low for Lance to hear.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." Lance apologized.

Keith sighed. "Not at all." He looked up at Lance. "My name's Keith."

"Well, Keith, it's nice to meet you." Lance said while he grabbed a cue from the wall. "So you any good at Pool?"

"My brother used to have a table, but we didn't play too often. So I'd say I'm decent." Keith answered as he hit the eight ball, finishing his game.

"Decent, you say. I bet you five bucks I can beat you!" Keith looked up from the pocket he was pulling balls out of to stare at Lance.

Keith stared at Lance. He had never seen the man before today. For all he knows the tan, blue eyed, boy could be a profesional Pool player. Or he could be a cocky collage kid.

"Deal."

After setting up, Keith broke. He didn't sink any so it was Lance's turn. This was it. The moment Keith would know whether or not he had bitten off more than he could chew. Keith watched as Lance walked up to the table. He leaned over and positioned the cue. Except he was holding it wrong.

Keith knew there were different ways to hold a cue, of course, but neither of Lance's hands were touching the table! Lance's right hand was gripping the cue almost at the tip, his left palm was on the bottom of the cue!

The sight alone was enough to make Keith shiver. "Stop." He said before Lance could take his shot. "That's not how you hold it!" Keith walked up to the table and positoned his cue like he was shooting. "This is how you hold it."

Lance mimicked Keith. "Pssh. I knew that. I just wanted to see if you knew that." Keith shook his head. This was going to be a breeze.

And he was right. By the time Keith had sunk all his balls and was ready to shoot the eight, Lance had scratched six times and only had two of his balls in pockets, one of which Keith had sunk on accident.

Keith had a perfect shot for the eight and sunk it beautifully. He turned to Lance, whose mouth was agape, and declaired he had won.

Lance pouted. "I declare a rematch! That was just a warmup! And to make it worth your while I'll add ten dollars to that bet!"

Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance. He looked at the five balls still on the table. "Sure." He smiled.

"Yay!" Lance cheered. "I call first hit!"

"Break." Keith corrected while he chalked his cue. "You call break."

"That's what I said." Lance waved his hands in a shooing motion at Keith.

Keith laughed as he racked the balls.

"Don't laugh at me!" Lance humphed. He tried to break but only stirs a couple of the balls.

Keith laughed again. He took his turn and spead the balls out more.

"It was't funny!" Lance pouted. He shot and missed.

"You're right." Sinking the six Keith looked Lance in the eyes. "It was hilarious."

Lance kicked him in the shin.

They continued their banter throughout the game until Keith had won again. This time Lance had sunk three balls. Keith was about ready to leave when Lance grabbed him.

"One more game, please!" Lance begged. Keith looked from Lance to the clock then back to Lance, who had a pout on his face.

"Fine! But only one more!" Keith sighed picking up his cue.

"Okay, I bet you forty bucks I'll beat you this time!" Lance said defiantly.

"Forty? Isn't that kinda high?" Keith asked, while he set up.

"Not for me! Is it too high for you?" Lance asked.

Keith smirked. "Not a problem for me."

"Okay then, forty! You break." Lance clapped.

Keith leaned over and hit the cue ball hard scattering the balls. Unfortunetly none of them sunk. He moved so Lance could take his turn.

Lance walked up and took his turn. He managed to sink one on his fisrt try.

"Good job, Lance!" Keith watched as Lance circled the table. The other man leaned down and shot again. He sunk another!

"Wow!" Keith exclaimed. Lance remained silent, the smirk on his face unwavering.

Lance took another shot this time he sunk two balls in one shot. Keith watched in shock and amazement as he took aim again. Two more rolled into pockets. Lance had only one left plus the eight and Keith hadn't sunk any.

Lance moved to the other side of the table, this ball was in a comprimising position. Even if it was by luck Lance had made all those shots there was no way Lance could make this shot accuretly without putting the cue behind him. Then to Keith's astonishment Lance switched hands. He sunk the five like nothing.

Keith couldn't believe his eyes. Not even he could shoot both right and left handed accuretly! Lance moved on to the eight.

"Left corner pocket." Lance called. Keith looked at the table. There was no way, no possible way Lance could make this shot. Maybe in a different pocket but not in the left corner. To hit the eight at the right angle was impossible because in between the cue and the eight was the fourteen. The fourteen was Keith's ball if Lance hit it before he hit one of his own he would lose his turn.

Keith watched with anticipation was Lance took aim. Then he shot. Lance hit the cue ball so low it made the ball jump. Jump up and over the fourteen, hitting the eight and sinking it in the left corner pocket.

Keith gaped. Lance sauntered over and picked up the money Keith had set out for the bet. He shoved it in his pocket and put his cue back in it's place.

Keith turned just as Lance was walking out the doors. "What was that?" He yelled.

"It's called a Hustle, Sweetheart." Lance let the doors slam behind him.


End file.
